Stay
by qualls1
Summary: He had chosen a new place to live, a new town that was miles away from her own. Not being able to see him made her grumpier than normal. So in other words, 'Anne's in a bad mood' changed to 'Anne's got a pistol. It's loaded.' AnnexMurphy
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Silent Hill**

**A/N: Hey, don't go trigger happy on me, please. This is my first Silent Hill fic and I'd like to read the reviews and leave on a happy note, okay? :D Thanks. **

**oOo**

Coffee wasn't normally her pick-me-up. Her mornings normally consisted of waking up, getting dressed quietly, yawn-stretching in the elevator, and buying food at the café downtown. Coffee was a sweet, bitter, wakeup call that set a bad taste in her mouth later.

And when she had a sour tongue, she made sure everyone knew, for their own safety. No one at work called her Annie or any kind of pleasant tag. She was famous at the penitentiary for her quick temper, and even more so for her inconsistent moods. And so, they normally respected her emotional welfare.

But today, she told herself, would be different.

He was late, one minute and forty seven seconds, to be exact. She wasn't judging him; she'd had worse dates.

Fiddling with the coffee cup, she tried to remind herself that no one around would recognize them. He had chosen the destination for their meeting, which she smiled upon.

'_At least he's not stupid.'_

He had chosen a new place to live, a new town that was miles away from her own. She wasn't pleased about that. Not being able to see him made her grumpier than normal. So in other words, 'Anne's in a bad mood' changed into 'Watch it, Anne's got a pistol. It's loaded.'

But at least he was safe. Safe and a little happier. Often, Anne would wonder if he missed her like she missed him.

She didn't feel like touching the coffee yet (she found it to be awkward to drink or eat alone). People weren't staring or anything, but she was still on edge. In her opinion, being on edge was a talent.

'_They aren't staring at you. Stop being paranoid Coleridge…"_

The other customers at the diner had no reason to stare. She wasn't in uniform (though she carried a tazer and some pepper spray in her purse. No gun, that would be to obvious.), only wearing a button up light blue shirt with tiny white stripes and some jeans. Her work boots were at home, along with her beloved pair of sunglasses.

Her hair was down, but she wanted to put it back up. Maybe she could before he-

"Sorry about that," the voice made her leap, her head turning to look at him. He walked around and sat down on the other side of her, "got stopped by someone on my way in."

Her heart stilled and she said quickly, "A cop?"

Murphy smiled softly, the scar on his right cheekbone curving. "Heh, no. An old man; my neighbor actually." His smile spread farther. She was wondering why he was so incredibly happy, and when it hit her, her cheeks flushed.

The first thing she had said to him (in person) in a month and a half was 'a cop?'. Embarrassed and suddenly nervous, she took a sip of her now cold coffee. "I meant to say 'good morning'."

He chuckled and it sent a flutter through her. She wasn't some teenager anymore; why was it affecting her so much?

'_It shouldn't make a difference. You've just been seeing each other for three months. It doesn't matter-'_

She looked back at him, his blue-green eyes and slightly tussled hair, and her chest stretched.

He explained how his life was going, after asking her how her morning was of course, and she soon realized that he was a normal person again. She was overwhelming happy for him, so much so that if another officer saw her, they wouldn't recognize her.

'_He does that to me.'_

They ordered, they talked, he asked her if she'd make it back home okay, and she looked out the window. It was mid-day. Her smile fell, thinking of leaving him again, thinking of waking up in the mornings again without her bland coffee and without him.

"It'll be dark by the time I'm near the city." She murmured, trying to think seriously. From in front of her, he said, "Do you need me to drive you?"

"No," She said quickly, "I don't want you to risk everything you've made here." There was a bunch of disappointment in her voice; she had thought of waking up in his arms the next morning. Part of her scoffed at that. There was no way that would have worked out.

He made a small humming sound. "You got work tomorrow?" he asked offhandedly. She looked at him as if he'd asked her to marry him.

"No… I'm off all week on vacation."

His eyebrows raised up and he made a pleased smirk. "Ah, then, if you want, you can stay up here with me."

Apparently, the look on her face was taken wrong, for his smiles faded and he rushed to say, "If-If you _want to."_

Shaken out of her trance, she came back quickly with a, "Y-Yea, sure! I . . . I don't see why not. It's not like anyone at work will be looking for me." She smiled a little, a grin almost. "Or they better not, at least."

He laughed a little, taking the bill from the passing waitress. "So you'll stay?"

'_Stay'_, to her, meant much more than he meant for it to. Her heart swelled and a wave of satisfaction breezed over her. "Yea, I will."

**oOo**

Exiting the diner, they headed out to her car. "You can just follow me back to my place." He said indirectly, watching her rummage in her purse for her keys. To her, the purse was a restraining seatbelt that pulled her down and nagged at her all day. The only reason she wore it was the pepper spray and other weaponry she had inside it.

She hadn't realized her long silence until his hand tugged on her sleeve cuff, making her turn to look at him. She blinked when she found a pair of lips touching her own. It was a soft, air-light touch that shocked her at first. Shaking a little into it, she caused him to pull back just a bit.

Almost automatically, her hands came up to cup his face and pull him closer.

As his hands crept around her waist, pressing them to the side of the car, she couldn't help but remember their trip to Silent Hill. Neither of them liked to mention it, out of fear that they would be shot back into the nightmare.

She rarely liked to think about it at all.

But he looked just so nice without the prison uniform; even better when he wore casual clothes. And with all that had happened between them, she felt attached to her. That's what drew her back to him in the first place.

After she found out he had not killed her father, that it was Sewell all along, a wave of guilt and compassion towards Murphy had consumed her. And so after she had shot Sewell seven times in the leg, hip, and arms, then turned him in barely alive, she contacted the ex-convict.

When he pulled away, he was greeted by her face in his neck, her arms pulling him closer. Their misunderstanding in Silent Hill had caused her to feel as though she had injured him greatly. She didn't want him to always look at her and see that woman, so . . . she had to present him with moments like these.

He said it again, the words she had heard not but a week ago. They had set her heart aflame, making her almost drop the phone in her hands. "I love you."

Which in a normal relationship wouldn't have meant anything but lies to her. However, with everything that they'd been through, hearing him say that was like a vow.

"I love you too." She whispered. The air was warm, but she still had goose-bumps.

Cars sped by on the highway, making her self-conscious suddenly. "How far off is your house?" she asked softly, not letting go of him, but backing up to look at him.

He faltered, thinking. "A five minute drive, at the least."

Nodding, she couldn't stop the small smile. "No more coffee in the mornings." She said, presenting her keys in the air as she crossed the side of the car. His eyebrows curved in confusion. "Why?"

"I _hate _coffee . . ."

He let out a small 'ha' as a laugh. "Then why were you drinking it?"

She made a disgusted face. "You were late." Before grinning and shutting the car door behind her.

**oOo**

**Oh dang. **

**Should I change the rating and make a second chapter? O_O Like, how their first night goes? **

**I'll let you guys decide, I'm not sure if I want to. **

**I hope I kept them in character. Anne was pretty easy, but Murphy… man, it's more difficult than it sounds….**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own it.**

**Hey, thanks for the reviews guys :) I don't think this is going to need a rating raiser, considering I don't go into detail :) Enjoy either way, and a little bit of a WARNING, it does contain everything leading up to intense stuff. I'm not going into the sex scene at all, but it'll be kinda sorta…hot…ish…**

**Enjoy~**

**oOo**

His house was more what she would call a _home._

Her apartment in the city was held together with every piece of her there was. It was home to her, even if it wasn't much of a house. She had a kitchen that connected with the main room. Her bedroom was small, but cozy, with a bathroom of its own. Despite what some might think, Anne's home was not all spick-and-span.

She had most of her undies strewn across the bathroom's linoleum floors. And what wasn't in the tooth-brush cup was on the sink side. The kitchen was clean, no dirty dishes, but the clean cups and bowls were stacked up on the counters. Her couch held most of her paper work, but also one special little spot made for her to sit upon and watch TV. The table she had added to said living room was small-ish, but was a wonderful area for propping her feet up.

It was simply Anne's house. She smiled now as she looked up at Murphy's house, thinking about her little boxes of paradise. His house, though, was where she would love to be every day. It was simple as well, with a big living room and a narrow kitchen. The counter in the kitchen was also considered an island, so he had papers and other such things on the stools.

There was a staircase that led to the second floor, and Murphy said there was an attack area too. "Here," He said, taking her hand, "The downstairs is a mess, you can see the upstairs, though. It's semi-acceptable."

She laughed softly and followed him up the stairs. His room was down the hallway, to the left. He turned to her with a small bit of awkwardness. "If you're staying here, I can sleep on the couch or something or-,"

She nonchalantly pushed him aside and entered the room, taking in his scent as she plopped down on the bed. "I like it." She complemented, for she had to say something so that he wasn't so tense. He let out a small chuckle, looking about his environment with a proud grin. It had taken a lot of careful thinking to pick the perfect apartment, but he had accomplished such a feat.

And now, she was here to. Everything was perfect, or at least getting there.

Part of his mind remembered Carol and Charlie and their first house; days of waking up and eating breakfast, talking, laughing, crying, shouting, and eventually purifying anger. Of course, _he_ wasn't the one that was displeased with their marriage. He loved her, unconditionally, and felt the same towards his adored son. The only problem, which she had stamped into him just before she slammed the front door shut, was that she 'wasn't about to stay in a ruined marriage where her husband could care less.'

Which all-in-all was wrong. He cared, more than he could ever express, but he had a job. And he would attend that job and gain money, which he would spend unselfishly on his 'loving' wife and their son.

"Murphy?"

His mind snapped back to the red-head in front of him, her hands touching his cheeks softly. "Hmm?"

"Where you listening to me?" She pouted and he couldn't tell whether it was real or fake.

"Sorry, no, I was thinking." He let out a soft smile and a sad face. Anne stared for a moment, trying to swallow the sadness in his expression. This, by the way, was very difficult when that was one of the preferred expressions he wore.

"Murphy…" She murmured, and she almost sounded worried.

"I'm fine," He assured softly, taking her hands from his cheeks and holding them. "What were you saying?"

She gave it a moment longer before sighing and repeating, "I'll sleep with you."

For a moment, his face was so straight and smooth that she wasn't sure he heard her. Then, a small fog of red washed over his cheeks and his jaw worked to form words.

Without really realizing it, she let a loud laugh out, almost doubling over. "That's-," she said between breaths, "not-what I- meant! Ahaha!"

While he recovered from a small cardiac arrest, she tried to pull her seriousness back on. It was almost futile, but she was known for maintaining a stoic persona.

"I meant…" she let out a deep breath, "I meant that we can share the bed… Jesus, Murphy." She smiled and hugged him, feeling his arms wrap around her in return.

"Alright…" He said shakingly, a smile forming.

oOo

It was late in the night when a strike of lighting and a rumble of thunder jolted her from her deep sleep. About three hours ago, she had fallen asleep in his arms, lying in bed. Now, she found her arms empty of Murphy.

She said his name softly, looking to the side of the bed where he sat. The window was being hammered with rain, fat drops that fell from the heavens and rapped against the glass. "Are you alright?" She said sleepily, struggling to untangle the sheets from her legs so she could sit up.

He didn't say a word.

She took this moment of silence to observe the muscle curves in his back, the small bumps of his spine, the spiky tufts of brown hair lingering on his neck. Gulping down every urge she had, she slid her legs over the side of the mattress so she could be sitting with him.

"Can't sleep." He muttered softly.

She rubbed her arms. It was a little chilly in the room, and without him there next to her, it seemed even more so.

"Why not?"

His hand unconsciously went up to touch the scar on his right cheek. "Eh, I think it's just memories."

A frown lingered on her lips. "You know," She started, laying a hand on his. "My dad used to tell me not to think about it. The only person that could make me feel bad about myself was me." She smiled. "Of course that was when I was seven. If I was going to give you the advice, I'd say to just not think about it."

"Do you think…" He whispered, barely audible over the sound of the rain. "Do you think I'm a monster?"

There was silence.

"No," she murmured, getting closer, to his ear, "I don't."

Without much warning, his arms snaked around her waist and held her to him, pulling her into his lap. "Muprhy!" She yelped softly, in shock.

"I'm sorry." She heard him say into her neck. "I'm so sorry."

Her fingers ran down his back, a small sigh of content rising in her throat. He was rather strong, despite his gentle demeanor. Which was odd, she had always thought, that he could go from being such a mild hearted man to slaughtering a Screamer with an ax.

It was a trigger, like a light switch, she had deducted. Once the switch was flicked, there was no changing him. She liked that aspect.

She reached the hem of his pants and tried to take a deep breath. She failed.

He seemed to notice her motives, for he leaned back to face her.

"I forgive you, I already said that." She smiled.

Murphy had hours ago decided he wasn't going to get any sleep. So he embraced her as she kissed him, falling with her onto the bed again. As his hands worked tenderly to pull her shirt up, she told him, "You need to stop thinking of yourself as a monster." He felt a warmth build in his chest, a small amount of warmth, that worked its way into his throat.

He paused, leaning up. He had been about to undo her bra, but decided instead to ask her, "Is this all alright with you?"

Anne looked faintly amused by his question, leaning to kiss his cheek.

"Is it alright if I call you Cupcake?"

He growled a little and leaned back down to meet her.

**oOo**

Waking up the next morning, he found her snuggled against his stomach, her arms wrapped around his waist as if she'd die if she let go. "How did you get down there…?" he asked out-loud, bemused.

She didn't snore in her sleep, but instead made soft sighing noises.

He ran a hand down her hair and thought for a moment what Carol would be doing right now.

_She'd have made breakfast, glared from the other side of the table, and waited for me to leave._

He kissed the top of Anne's head.

Maybe one day she could stay here with him forever?

**oOo**

**CRAPPY ENDING IS CRAPPY.**

**Wow, it's really late at night here… and it's raining O.O**

**Tell me what you think and no flames, k? **


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